


What A (disobedient, rude, entitled) Brat

by rubberupandmakeitstarker



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angry Sex, Brat!Peter, Dark!Tony, Dom/sub Undertones, Edging, Humiliation, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Premature Ejaculation, Punishment, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 13:02:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15972860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberupandmakeitstarker/pseuds/rubberupandmakeitstarker
Summary: Peter, feeling neglected and a little bratty, seeks attention from one of his classmates. He ends up getting a little more than he intended.





	What A (disobedient, rude, entitled) Brat

Today, like every day, Tony rolls up to Peter’s school to pick him up and take him to the lab. Tony realizes it is taking Peter longer than normal to show up to his car, and Tony looks around the front of the school to see if he can see him. When most of the other students have left, Tony starts to get worried, and makes his way into the school to find Peter.

After sweeping the halls, Tony pushes the door to the boys’ bathroom open, shocked stiff when he sees Flash pinning Peter to the wall.

Making out with him.

Flash lands oh his ass with a grunt when Tony shoves him off of Peter, dragging Peter out of the room by his wrist.

“See ya tomorrow, Flash!” Peter chirps over his shoulder.

Back at Tony’s house, in his bed, his cock buried deep in Peter’s ass, Tony hisses into Peter’s ear, “What the fuck was that, huh? Did you think I wouldn’t catch you? I was in the parking lot for twenty minutes, Parker, how long were you going to make me wait?”

Instead of responding to his questions, Peter says, “You know, if you think about it, this is your fault, Mr. Stark.” Peter gasps softly when Tony throws him a particularly rough thrust at that. “You don’t want to tell anyone about us, and the other kids at school don’t even know I’m dating anyone…”

Tony sends Peter a heated glare. A tiny smirk rests on Peter’s face. “You wanted me to catch you. You’re trying to punish me, you little slut.”

Peter shrugs his shoulders as best he can with his arms pinned over his head. “I dunno, maybe I just think Flash is hot. Maybe I want someone who will claim me, publicly.”

Tony’s face is red with rage. He doesn’t say anything else, he simply grabs Peter behind his knees, cocking his body back and fucking him hard. Peter all but screams beneath him, the position allowing Tony’s cock to hit his prostate with each thrust.

Peter can only take this for so long, his body twisting in Tony grip. “Oh god, I’m gonna come-!”

“You better not.” Tony grits, only driving his hips harder.

Peter whines, fisting the sheets. His cock is squashed between his stomach and his thighs, leaking with his impending release. “Mr. Stark, please, please!”

“No.” Tony snaps, his movements starting to lose their rhythm. “You’re going to let me come first, got it?” Tony drops one of Peter’s legs to wrap a firm hand around the boy’s cock, stroking him fervently. “Whores have to make sure their suitors are satisfied before they can finish.”

Peter’s body locks down on the pressure building behind his cock, his mouth hung open but nothing coming out. The only sound in the room is the lewd slapping of skin on skin and Tony’s ragged breathing, until panicked whimpers start pouring from Peter’s mouth. “I can’t-! I can’t-! I’m gonna-!”

That does it for Tony, his hips slamming a final time into Peter’s body as he comes with a groan. He holds Peter’s cock painfully tight, still, assuring that Peter holds off on his own orgasm until Tony is done enjoying his.

And then he just… leaves the room.

“Hey!” Peter huffs, hopping off the bed and following Tony down the hall, come dripping down his thighs and erection bobbing grotesquely. “Where are you going?”

“Shower. Wanna come?”

Peter steps into the bathroom behind Tony, mouth set in a tight line. “Yeah, I really wanna come.”

Tony pulls Peter into the shower and turns the water on, planting a soft kiss to his lips. “Why don’t I clean you up? I’ve made a real mess, hm?”

Peter hisses quietly when Tony strokes his cock, loose and easy. As soon as Peter’s eyes flutter closed, Tony lets him go, grabbing a wash cloth and a bar of soap. “Mr. Staaark!” Peter whines childishly, pliant to Tony rubbing the soapy wash cloth over his sticky thighs. “Please?”

“Please what?” Tony asks casually, dropping to his knees and using his bare fingers to wash his release from Peter’s entrance. He ignores Peter’s soft gasp.

“Please touch me.” Peter sighs, pushing back on Tony’s fingers.

“Is that all?” Tony coos. “Does my boy need to be touched a little more?”

Peter nods eagerly, his face twisting in pleasure when Tony easily squeezes two fingers inside him, and assaulting his spot with the same level of casualty he might discuss the weather. “Fuck, fuck…”

Tony works his fingers for a long while, listening to Peter’s noises increase in pitch, feeling the way Peter selfishly pushes down for more. The boy’s hands remain at his sides, balled into fists, very clearly struggling not to touch himself. “Such an obedient boy, when you want to be.”

Peter chokes when Tony’s warm hand wraps around his cock again, this time working him in tight, fluid motions. Peter’s knees squeeze together in an effort to hold out a little longer, but he ultimately only makes it for a few more seconds before he is warning, “Gonna come, gonna-!”

Tony stands abruptly and moves under the stream of water, entirely unmoved by Peter’s sob of protest. “It’s too bad you weren’t so obedient this afternoon. I might let you come tonight if you had been.”

“What?” Peter splutters. “You’re not going to let me come tonight?!”

Tony outright laughs, tipping his head back to wet his hair. “Of course not. Why don’t you get Flash to do it?”

Peter whimpers, but doesn’t push it. “I’m sorry…”

“I bet you are.” Tony murmurs. “How about you hop out and let your aunt know that you’re spending the night tonight? You need my help with a project or, I dunno, something.”

Peter huffs a pout, but obeys, stepping out of the shower.

“And Parker,” Tony barks through the curtain. “If you touch yourself while you’re out there, you’ll wish I was only stopping you coming.”

Peter rolls his eyes, wordlessly leaving the room. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling a little neglected, and maybe a touch resentful. It’s not his fault that Tony wants to keep their relationship a secret. He isn’t the one who suggested that they both act like they are single to avoid and suspicion from the media. How could Tony be made at him for seeking out attention at school?

When Peter hangs up the phone with May, he flops belly-first onto Tony’s bed. Peter sighs quietly at the cool of the silk sheets welcoming his hard cock, and the following step to pushing his hips into the sheets was an easy one to make. Tony said not to touch himself, he said nothing about the mattress.

When Tony rounds the corner into his room only a moment later, seeing Peter rutting into his bed, his blood boils on the spot. “Peter!”

Peter startles and snaps his head around to look at Tony. It is everything he can do not to meet the man’s fuming face with a cheeky grin. “Oh, hey, Mr. Stark. Everything okay?” Peter yelps when he is snatched off the bed and the next thing he knows he is looking down at the floor, his body balanced over Tony’s lap.

“Safe word?”

“Underoos..?” Peter shrieks in surprise when Tony’s hand lands hard on his ass, the sting making his cock jump between his legs.

“I never thought I would have to do this, Peter.” Tony snarls, slapping Peter’s ass twice more before he continues, “But you have been such a fucking brat today. A disobedient,” Slap. “Rude,” Slap. “Entitled,” Slap. “Brat.”

Tears rim Peter’s eyes now, hot and threatening to spill down his cheeks. Tony must have spanked him twenty times before he stops, sitting up straight and breathing an aggravated sigh.

Tony rolls Peter back onto the bed, using the corner of his bedspread to wipe off the precum that Peter left behind on his leg. Tony looks down at Peter, his back on the bed, tears dripping down to his ears, his cock impossibly hard against his stomach. Tony takes a steadying breath, fighting the temptation to take hold of Peter’s cock and finish him right now.

Peter’s blurry eyes follow Tony’s body as he walks to his side of the bed, and he sits up carefully when Tony slips beneath the covers. “Mr.-?”

“Go to sleep.” Tony murmurs, pulling Peter to cuddle into his chest. “You’ve got school in the morning. FRIDAY, turn off the lights.”

The room goes dark, and Peter doesn’t dare complain. His ass stings and his cock weeps onto the sheets, but sleep comes surprisingly easily for him.

Staying asleep was the problem.

Being young and insanely turned on upon falling asleep, it was inevitable that his dreams would be saturated with temptation. Tony sucking his cock, fucking his ass, jerking him off, eating him out, Peter’s brain runs the gamut of ways that he could finally find release with Tony’s help. The trouble is that Peter can’t actually reach an orgasm in his sleep. He always wakes when he gets close, only requiring a few strokes to his cock after waking to get there.

When Peter wakes up after his first wet dream and he feels Tony’s hand working his cock, so very slick with precum, Peter thinks Tony might be having mercy on him. Peter can’t sleep properly in this condition; surely Tony wouldn’t force him to go all night like this.

Wrong.

Tony listens closely to Peter’s breathing. On nights like these, when Peter wakes needing relief, Tony never requires the typical verbal warning before he comes. Peter is allowed to embrace the barely-lucid sensation and spill over, just as soon as the urge hits him, and Tony doesn’t expect Peter to treat tonight any differently. When the tell-tale sound of Peter’s breath coming in pitiful hiccups violates the otherwise silent room, Tony pulls his hand away. He pulls Peter’s back into his chest, hugging boy’s arms in an X to keep him from foolishly darting a hand between his legs.

Peter sobs in protest, his hips jerking uselessly, babbling, “Please, please, I’m sorry, please!”

“Shush, baby, it’s time for bed.” Tony mumbles, unmoved.

The rest of the night holds several more incidents of the same nature, Peter’s urgency increasing and his disappointment more intense with each denied orgasm. By the time it is finally time to wake up; Peter is a sweaty, tired, frustrated mess. His hair is damp, stray tresses stuck to his forehead, which Tony carefully rakes back with his fingers.

“How did you sleep? Have a hard time?” Tony asks, mocking him.

Peter swallows, the crawl of his skin too intense for him to be insulted. “Can you help me shower?”

Tony’s brow furrows. “Why?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to keep from touching myself if I go alone.” Peter murmurs quietly. “And I’m super gross after…” Peter doesn’t finish, simply sending Tony a pleading look.

“Alright.” Tony says, leading Peter to the bathroom and turning the shower on. “Do you think you will be able to control yourself at school?”

The double meaning isn’t lost on Peter. He knows good and well that Tony isn’t strictly referring to him touching himself. Peter’s face flushes. “Yeah, no, that won’t… that won’t be a problem.”

“How about we make sure of that?” Tony asks darkly, pushing Peter under the water and nipping at his neck.

Goosebumps rise on Peter’s skin as Tony sucks on his neck, painfully so, hard enough that the skin is left purple when Tony moves to a new spot. Peter is so turned on by the feeling that it isn’t until Tony has sucked a seventh hickey into his neck that he realizes how high Tony is placing them. A turtle neck couldn’t even hide all of the marks, some reaching up to Peter’s jawline, dark and painfully obvious.

“There.” Tony says, a wicked smile on his face. “Now your little friends at school will know that you belong to someone. That public enough for you?” Tony doesn’t wait for Peter to stutter out an answer; instead he steps out of the shower and leans against the doorframe, checking his phone. “Get washed up, you’ll be late.”

–

By the time Peter is dragging himself into Tony’s bedroom that afternoon, he practically collapses onto the mattress. The circles under his eyes are almost as dark as the hickies on his neck, and his eyes burn with exhaustion.

Tony follows in behind Peter, looking at him on the bed. He looks so soft, his mouth set in a little frown and his body curled in on itself. Tony lies down behind him, draping an arm over his waist. “How was school?”

“It was shit.” Peter pouts.

“Yeah?” Tony asks quietly, petting Peter’s arm. He suddenly doesn’t feel so inclined to continue his punishment, the misery dripping from Peter’s words sounding more like actual sadness than the annoyed, sassy tone he usually takes when Tony punishes him for extended periods of time.

“Yeah. I was late, so I didn’t get to eat breakfast. Flash was all pissed that I wouldn’t do anything with him today, so he shoved me in my locker and called me a cock tease. When I finally got let out by one of the teachers, it was time for lunch, but Flash got one of his jerk friends to knock my food out of my hands and onto the floor. I didn’t have any extra lunch money, so I didn’t eat. After that, people started making fun of me for the hickies. Kept telling me I was a whore.”

Tony frowns. “Oh, babe, I’m so sorry.”

Peter’s tone takes on a new element as he works his mouth, trying to get the words to come out; shame. “And I… I…” Peter can’t finish his sentence, instead whimpering a small, “I’m sorry.”

Tony’s lips tighten. “Did you touch yourself at school?” Upon Peter’s tiny nod, Tony sighs softly. “Did you come?”

Peter shakes his head fervently. “No, no, just, I had to pee, and my hand was already there, and it hurts, and I just… for a few seconds.” Peter’s voice cracks, tears coming to his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Tony continues to gently pass his fingers over Peter’s arm, pressing a kiss to Peter’s neck. “Listen. Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to let you have an orgasm, then I am going to get you some food, then you’re going to go to bed. Punishment over. Tomorrow, I will pull some strings, and I will make sure that you are treated kindly at school. And you will go back to being my sweet, happy, obedient boy. Sound good?”

“Yes, yes, please.“ Peter cries, turning his body into Tony’s.

“How do you want it?” Tony coos quietly, already working the button of Peter’s jeans.

Peter blushes, not meeting Tony’s eyes. “It’s. Um. I’m really… sore. It hurts to touch with my hands; I think your hands would hurt, too…”

“Not a problem.” Tony assures as he shuffles their positions, landing between Peter’s spread legs, the boy’s leaking cock lying red and moist on his stomach. Tony passes a gaze to Peter’s face, flushed and pinched, before he lowers himself down. “No need to ask permission. Just let go as soon as you need to.”

Peter gasps harshly and arches off the bed when the wet heat of Tony’s mouth surrounds his cock. His hands tangle in Tony’s hair instinctively, fingers squeezing tight. “Oh fuck, fuck-!”

Tony carefully rubs his hand over Peter’s balls as he bobs his head easily. The tender skin of Peter’s cock flares in his mouth, and he isn’t surprised when less than 30 seconds in, Peter is sobbing loudly.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter almost shrieks, his hips lurching as his spills into Tony’s mouth. Peter huffs a huge sigh of relief as he crumples back onto the bed, panting. “Mr. Stark…”

Tony swallows Peter’s release and moves up the bed beside him, kissing his sweaty forehead. “C’mon, let’s go get you some food, baby.”

Peter nods sleepily, and the rest of the night goes off without a hitch. Gentle. Warm. Easy.

The next morning, instead of just dropping Peter off at school as usual, Tony walks him into the building, their fingers laced together. When they reach Peter’s first class, Tony passes a cold smirk at all of the students in the room. His lips drop to neutral when he catches Flash’s eyes, and he turns his attention to Peter to push his lips into his. For several seconds. Tony pulls away when the commotion of all of the students reaches an uncomfortable volume, and he rubs a thumb over one of Peter’s fading hickies. “If you have any trouble, give me a call, baby.”

Breathless and with a little smile on his face, Peter nods before he enters his classroom.

He doesn’t have any trouble that day.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: http://rubberupandmakeitstarker.tumblr.com/


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